


Last Chance Chapter 1

by justanotherjen



Category: Stargate: SG-1
Genre: Angst, F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherjen/pseuds/justanotherjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a short jaunt across the galaxy in a recovered cargo ship but when Sam and Jack crash, their routine mission becomes anything but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Last Chance**   
**Sam/Jack**   
**rated G**

 _It was supposed to be a short jaunt across the galaxy in a recovered cargo ship but when Sam and Jack crash, their routine mission becomes anything but..._

 **Not mine, don't own. I'm poor so don't sue me.**

* * *

 _The only trouble with resisting temptation is that you may not get another chance._

 _  
_

Sam shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her and digging her numb hands under her arms. She stood a few feet back, off to the side, watching him as he frantically fiddled with the dead controls.

"Sir?" she said, cautiously.

"Not now, Carter."

She took a step closer, staying out of his range. Outside the wind blew over the field; the tall, wheat colored grass bending nearly to the ground and the white, puffy seeds of the near-by trees fluttering by. Sam fought the urge to shiver again, forcing ever muscle in her body to remain as still as possible. She gritted her teeth and tried again.

"Sir," she said a little more forcefully, "it's no use."

"Shut up, Carter," he answered in a slightly more authoritative tone.

Sam winced in response. He continued to prod and poke the insides of what was left of the cargo ship controls. He rearranged a few crystals, spliced a couple wires that the egg-heads at Area 51 had added. Sam knew he had no idea what he was doing. She also knew it was a pointless endeavor. She had already spent two days doing the same, spending every agonizingly cold moment with her head half way up the bowels of the crashed ship. She glanced out the viewscreen again as a blast of frigid air rocked the ship. Not even superior alien technology could keep them warm with a gaping hole in the hull just behind the pilot's chair. The hole, in fact, just channeled the wind into the interior where it bounced around and seemed to meld with the cold metal. She could no longer quell the tremors building in her body in response to her rapidly declining body temperature. The colonel rolled his shoulders, trying to hide his own growing cold.

"Sir, please. I've already-"

"So help me, Carter, if you don't shut the hell up and leave me alone."

Frustrated, exhausted and more than a little angry Sam took a tentative step toward her commanding officer. "There's no-"

She was cut off with a deep growl from the colonel. A spark flew from whatever system he was messing with. He jerked his hand back with a yelp then jammed his burnt finger into his mouth. "See, power," he muttered, his tone not matching the levity of his words.

Sam was really beginning to worry about him. She shrugged off his initial interest in the internal workings of the ship as boredom tinged with desperation but now it bordered on obsession. And worse, he had no clue what he was doing and could seriously injure himself. The ship may be dead but there was still power coursing through the wires and crystals.

A couple more steps, a bracing deep breath and she lowered her icy hand to his shoulder. "Jack," she said softly.

He instantly froze. The moment stretched on for what seemed like minutes, the only movement the billowing of their breath in the air. She was sure she had finally gotten through to him but then he shoved her hand off.

"Go away, Carter. And, so there's no mistake, that was an order."

Sam stared at his back as he slowly returned to work, fully aware she was still there and wouldn't follow his "order" so easily. His shoulders tensed for the coming fight but his hands never ceased moving as he continued to manipulate the crystals. With regret and more sadness then she wanted to admit to, Sam backed away from him. She shivered again, completely unable to stop the nearly constant tremors and briefly wondered how he could even feel his fingers let alone work with the small pieces of the interior of the ship. She pulled her own hand out from under her arm and jabbed at the control panel to the cargo hold. The door slid open with a hiss. She glanced over her shoulder as she entered. The colonel was completely still, hands still in the control panel... waiting for her to finally give up. She sighed and hit the button to close the door.

Inside the cargo hold the air was slightly warmer. After the crash Sam had diverted what little power they had into the environmental systems and tried to keep the intact rear section heated but the power was quickly failing: a break in the supply somewhere inside the ship. That was days ago and now the cold seemed to be really getting to the colonel. His behavior was extremely disconcerting. After everything they had been through the last five years she had never seen him crack under pressure like this. And, frankly, it frightened her.

She made her way across the tilted deck and slid to the floor against a wooden crate bolted to the floor. Another addition by Area 51. She had no idea it's purpose but it beat leaning against the heat zapping metal of the bulkhead and exterior walls. With nothing else to do but wait for the colonel to come to his senses she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack groaned, his fingers no longer following the commands his brain was giving. He cupped them over his mouth and huffed warm air into the pocket, trying to warm them with little success. When rubbing them vigorously had little effect either he finally had to admit defeat. He rocked back on his heels, his knee whining in protest, and examined the mess he had made of the control panel.

**Last Chance**   
**Sam/Jack**   
**rated G**

 _It was supposed to be a short jaunt across the galaxy in a recovered cargo ship but when Sam and Jack crash, their routine mission becomes anything but..._

 **Not mine, don't own. I'm poor so don't sue me.**

* * *

 _The only trouble with resisting temptation is that you may not get another chance._

* * *

Sam shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her and digging her numb hands under her arms. She stood a few feet back, off to the side, watching him as he frantically fiddled with the dead controls.

"Sir?" she said, cautiously.

"Not now, Carter."

She took a step closer, staying out of his range. Outside the wind blew over the field; the tall, wheat colored grass bending nearly to the ground and the white, puffy seeds of the near-by trees fluttering by. Sam fought the urge to shiver again, forcing ever muscle in her body to remain as still as possible. She gritted her teeth and tried again.

"Sir," she said a little more forcefully, "it's no use."

"Shut up, Carter," he answered in a slightly more authoritative tone.

Sam winced in response. He continued to prod and poke the insides of what was left of the cargo ship controls. He rearranged a few crystals, spliced a couple wires that the egg-heads at Area 51 had added. Sam knew he had no idea what he was doing. She also knew it was a pointless endeavor. She had already spent two days doing the same, spending every agonizingly cold moment with her head half way up the bowels of the crashed ship. She glanced out the viewscreen again as a blast of frigid air rocked the ship. Not even superior alien technology could keep them warm with a gaping hole in the hull just behind the pilot's chair. The hole, in fact, just channeled the wind into the interior where it bounced around and seemed to meld with the cold metal. She could no longer quell the tremors building in her body in response to her rapidly declining body temperature. The colonel rolled his shoulders, trying to hide his own growing cold.

"Sir, please. I've already-"

"So help me, Carter, if you don't shut the hell up and leave me alone."

Frustrated, exhausted and more than a little angry Sam took a tentative step toward her commanding officer. "There's no-"

She was cut off with a deep growl from the colonel. A spark flew from whatever system he was messing with. He jerked his hand back with a yelp then jammed his burnt finger into his mouth. "See, power," he muttered, his tone not matching the levity of his words.

Sam was really beginning to worry about him. She shrugged off his initial interest in the internal workings of the ship as boredom tinged with desperation but now it bordered on obsession. And worse, he had no clue what he was doing and could seriously injure himself. The ship may be dead but there was still power coursing through the wires and crystals.

A couple more steps, a bracing deep breath and she lowered her icy hand to his shoulder. "Jack," she said softly.

He instantly froze. The moment stretched on for what seemed like minutes, the only movement the billowing of their breath in the air. She was sure she had finally gotten through to him but then he shoved her hand off.

"Go away, Carter. And, so there's no mistake, that was an order."

Sam stared at his back as he slowly returned to work, fully aware she was still there and wouldn't follow his "order" so easily. His shoulders tensed for the coming fight but his hands never ceased moving as he continued to manipulate the crystals. With regret and more sadness then she wanted to admit to, Sam backed away from him. She shivered again, completely unable to stop the nearly constant tremors and briefly wondered how he could even feel his fingers let alone work with the small pieces of the interior of the ship. She pulled her own hand out from under her arm and jabbed at the control panel to the cargo hold. The door slid open with a hiss. She glanced over her shoulder as she entered. The colonel was completely still, hands still in the control panel... waiting for her to finally give up. She sighed and hit the button to close the door.

Inside the cargo hold the air was slightly warmer. After the crash Sam had diverted what little power they had into the environmental systems and tried to keep the intact rear section heated but the power was quickly failing: a break in the supply somewhere inside the ship. That was days ago and now the cold seemed to be really getting to the colonel. His behavior was extremely disconcerting. After everything they had been through the last five years she had never seen him crack under pressure like this. And, frankly, it frightened her.

She made her way across the tilted deck and slid to the floor against a wooden crate bolted to the floor. Another addition by Area 51. She had no idea it's purpose but it beat leaning against the heat zapping metal of the bulkhead and exterior walls. With nothing else to do but wait for the colonel to come to his senses she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight.


	3. Last Chance Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam wasn't asleep. She had been waiting, knowing he'd give up eventually and couldn't stay outside forever. She pulled her legs tighter to her body as the door hissed open. The room was suddenly illuminated by a shaft of light from the control room but it was just as quickly darkened, the door slipping shut almost silently. The colonel moved carefully through the space somehow avoiding the scattered debris and the contents of the crate she had knocked over earlier. It had taken her five minutes of sitting on the cold floor before her butt went numb and she knew there was no way they'd survive another night as the outside temperature continued to plummet.

Sam wasn't asleep. She had been waiting, knowing he'd give up eventually and couldn't stay outside forever. She pulled her legs tighter to her body as the door hissed open. The room was suddenly illuminated by a shaft of light from the control room but it was just as quickly darkened, the door slipping shut almost silently. The colonel moved carefully through the space somehow avoiding the scattered debris and the contents of the crate she had knocked over earlier. It had taken her five minutes of sitting on the cold floor before her butt went numb and she knew there was no way they'd survive another night as the outside temperature continued to plummet.

After knocking over the box and finally finding some recognizable tools she had disassembled the wooden crate and created a sort of pallet to lay on, giving them some insulation from the cold metal. The colonel now stood over her apparently examining her handiwork. She was sure she heard him chuckle. The sound made her blood run cold. She was surprised at her own reaction. Any other time the sound of the man showing his humorous side would cause a shiver of another kind to travel her spine. His earlier outburst seemed to be the determining factor for her current feelings toward the sound he made. Her brain was working way too hard on the topic considering the state she was in.

He had nowhere else to go and they both knew it. Even more so they needed each other, their body heat the only thing that was going to keep them warm through the long night. After a few tense moments she felt him lower to the pallet, a soft groan escaping when his knee audibly popped. But he didn't lie down. He just sat there mumbling to himself.

After a few minutes Sam just couldn't take it any more. She pulled herself to a sitting position staying as far to the opposite side of the crate as possible. He stiffened at her movement but made no move of his own. He was hunched over, his arms resting on his knees and his hands covering his face. He looked tired and... old. She hated to think of him that way. He joked about it a lot, the fact that he had a good 15 years on her and wasn't as fit as in his prime. Sam never noticed. She couldn't see it. He wasn't old, not in her mind. He was just... the colonel. Just Jack and he was fine the way he was.

He knew she was staring at him without even attempting a glance over his shoulder. He knew her that well. And she knew him well enough to know it was bugging the crap out of him. She resumed her previous position with her knees tucked under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. She stared into the darkness of the empty hold and tried not to think of how dire their situation was and how she had failed. Failed to get them safely to the ground, failed to fix the damn ship, failed to get them out of there. That was her job after all, wasn't it? Saving their collective asses when everything went to hell.

She turned her head, resting her cheek on her knee and watched the colonel again. The defeat just rolled off of him. It was nauseating to Sam.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, surprising even herself.

He stilled, his head lifting from his hands but he didn't turn. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Sam repeated, a little louder.

"For what?" She could hear the tension in his voice and it was ratcheting up with each word.

She sighed and turned away from him. "I couldn't fix the ship," she said matter-of-factly, as if he didn't already know. I failed, the voice in her head screamed. She shoved it away. "I should have been able to fix it."

"Carter," he said, the earlier tension replaced by a weary, deflated tone.

"No," she said, interrupting any further placating he might attempt, "I got us into this and I should have gotten us out." There, she said it. She all but screamed the word failure.

"It's not your fault we crashed."

"Isn't it? I was flying."

"We were under fire," he said, finally turning to face her. She couldn't read his expression in the dim lighting. "I'd say it's whoever attacked us that's at fault."

"If I had just-"

"No," he said, rather forcefully, causing Sam to jump, "you got us down in one piece. Relatively one piece." He muttered the last part as he turned away from her again.

Sam stared at his back. He leaned on his legs, his hands now dangling between his knees.

"If I had flown better we would have been in one piece," she told him quietly, not wanting to lose this argument for some unknown reason.

He reached up to rub at his forehead with his right hand but winced before cradling it to his chest and using his other to push at the bridge of his nose. Sam eyed the movement out of the corner of her vision. After a moment she finally asked, "what's wrong with your hand?"

He glanced down at the offending appendage. "Nothing," he muttered, "go back to sleep, Carter."

"Is that an order?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, regret instantly filling every corner of her being. She closed her eyes and waited for his biting response. But it didn't come. Instead he sighed.

"I could make it one."

She looked up and found him facing her again, looking sad and beyond exhausted. She studied his face, for once uncaring what he thought of the scrutiny. He had a vicious looking cut over his left eye, just under the hairline, blood caked down the side of his face and in his tussled hair. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, dark circles shadowing under them. Several days' worth of stubble covered his chin and he absently scratched at it, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed hard and realized he was probably taking stock of her dismal looks, too. Her eyes slowly traced down his body to his hand pressed unto his abdomen. He finally flinched away from her gaze but she grabbed at the arm.

He gritted his teeth at the movement. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." They had been through this dance already when she forced him to sit still so she could clean and bandage the burn on his other arm. "Just let me look."

"Carter, just go to sleep already." He jumped up and moved away from the pallet.

Sam watched him walk across the hold and lean his head against the far wall. He was muttering to himself again but she was too far away to hear it.


	4. Last Chance Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gold clad wall was cool, the etchings digging painfully into his forehead but he refused to move or decrease the pressure. It was a good two minutes before he heard Carter sigh, the wood under her creaking as she moved. He hoped she was finally following his orders. The squeak of her boots on the decking told him no such luck. Like it would be that easy.

The gold clad wall was cool, the etchings digging painfully into his forehead but he refused to move or decrease the pressure. It was a good two minutes before he heard Carter sigh, the wood under her creaking as she moved. He hoped she was finally following his orders. The squeak of her boots on the decking told him no such luck. Like it would be that easy.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand reach for him but stop just before contact. She pulled it back deciding to clear her throat to get his attention. Part of Jack felt a sudden pang of disappointment, a small groan escaping his lips.

"Sir, I know you're angry with me," she said softly, sending another wave of remorse through Jack, "but I'm really tired and really cold and we both know we won't make it through the night without each other." She paused as if waiting for her words to sink in before uttering, "please come to bed."

Jack was sure her words some how sucked all the air from the room. He tried to take a breath but the action caught in his throat and he felt himself fighting the urge to laugh. Any other time he would have skipped with glee to hear her say those words. Maybe not skip but something akin to skipping. Instead he pushed the thought and the laugh as far down as he could. She probably already thought he was going insane, no need to confirm it.

"Sir?" Her hand finally landed softly on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper. A slight warmth spread from the point of contact: a pleasant, if unwelcome, tickle following in it's wake. He briefly wondered if Carter felt the same sensation when he touched her. Something else to squash down with the laughter and the skipping.

Jack sighed in defeat. "Yeah, let's get some sleep."

Satisfied, Carter backed away, the tickly sensation leaving with her. He followed her back to the make-shift bed she created from pieces of the useless wood crate. After the crash Jack had scavenged anything useful to keep them alive. The trip was only supposed to take two days. They had a change of clothes each and light thermal blankets for comfort more than warmth. Jack had found an oil spattered moving blanket used by the Geek Squad to protect some items that hadn't survived reentry.

Carter now had the moving blanket folded on the pallet for cushioning, the two Air Force issue blankets scrunched to one side and her pack at one end as a pillow. She sat down and flipped on her flashlight. Jack guarded his eyes with his good hand and was about to ask what she was doing when she pulled the first aid kit onto her lap.

She looked up at him expectantly, daring him to refuse her. He stared her down for a moment before sighing and dropping next to her. That little voice in the back of his head mumbled something about being whipped, Jack mentally whacked it with a hockey stick he kept around for just that purpose.

"What happened?" she asked, gingerly holding his hand by the wrist and turning it over.

"I hurt it."

She glanced up at him with that look that said she wasn't in the mood for his crap. He rolled his eyes. Knowing each other that well was a real benefit in the field during battle but could be real bothersome at other times. Jack looked away, choosing to keep his eyes steady on the darkness around them.

"I had a disagreement with the wall," he said lightly.

Carter made a clicking sound with her tongue, one he associated with his grandma when he had done something to break one of her precious angel statues... or nearly break his own neck. Carter made no other comment. Jack was sure there was something on the tip of her tongue just itching to get out but she was too nice and too caught up in decorum. Rules and regulations, that's what Carter was all about.

She carefully extended each finger; Jack gritting his teeth each time, determined not to make a sound.

"It'd be a lot easier if you let me know where and how much it hurts."

"I told you it's fine."

"Really?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Yeah, really." Jack tried to pull his hand back but her grip tightened. Without warning, her eyes still trained on his face and gleaming with frustration and quite a bit of anger, she squeezed the three fingers in her hand. Sharp pain shot up his arm. "OWE! What the hell, Carter?"

"You want to amend your story?"

Jack's eyes grew big as he bit back another yelp of pain, her grip tightening slightly in her bid to win the argument. They were both quiet for a long time, his hand still held tightly in her lap.

Finally after what felt like minutes Carter swallowed loudly. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, tinged with all sorts of emotions Jack wasn't ready to deal with. When she made to move away Jack stopped her with his other hand without thinking. She stared down at it resting on her forearm.

"We're both tired," he told her, trying to ignore the sadness in his own voice, "let's call it a truce and get some sleep. You can call my bluff all you want in the morning."

Carter let out a soft, choked laugh. Jack could just make out her face in the dim light and none of the humor reached her eyes. She sat quietly, considering his words. Finally she nodded ever so slightly but didn't let go of his hand. Jack pulled his other from her arm and scratched at the stubble on his face.

"Does it hurt?" Jack wondered when she had ever sounded so small before. She absently rubbed circles on the back of his hand with her thumbs sending a shiver down his spine, waking all sorts of areas of his brain and body... things that should stay asleep.

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling too warm and too confined. "Only when I think about it," he managed to croak, clearing his throat for added effect.

She looked up at him with sad, tired eyes. "I think it's broken."

"You're probably right." She usually was.

"Will you let me wrap it?"

"Will that get you off my case?"

Her fingers stilled and Jack instantly regretted the biting remark. He'd pay for that one, he knew.

Instead of the snarky response he expected she let out a nearly inaudible sigh, her head bowed. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Act like you deserve the pain?"

Jack closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of her soft fingers against his rough skin. "Maybe because I do deserve it." Jack opened his eyes when she didn't comment right away. She was starting at her fingers wrapped protectively around his injured hand. There was no anger in her expression, just sadness. "I'm sorry," he told her, "for earlier."

She shrugged, putting an end to the conversation and his belated apology. Before he could say anything else she was ripping open packs of bandages and wrapping his hand from second knuckles half way up his forearm. When she was satisfied with the work she secured the end with tape.

"How's that?"

"Feels better," Jack told her, part of him thinking that if felt even better with her holding his hand. Not that he could ever tell her that. "We should get some sleep."

She nodded and tossed the first aid kit to the floor in a very un-Carter like fashion before curling up on the pallet. Jack took a deep breath, steadying his suddenly erratic breathing and pounding heart. Slowly he swung his legs up and positioned himself next to his 2IC. It wasn't as easy with both arms bandaged in some fashion, the pain still radiating up both and into his neck and back. He groaned as he tried to get comfortable. When he tucked his right arm under her neck she froze. He considered moving it but then she surprised them both by rolling over and laying her head in the crook of his shoulder, her arm stretching over his chest. His breath caught in his chest but Carter didn't seem to notice or she gracefully ignored it.

With his free hand he pulled the covers up over them and wrapped his arms around her, trying to keep them both warm.


	5. Last Chance Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam woke up some time later. It was hard to tell in the dark, windowless hold. Outside the wind howled against the hull, the ship rocking lightly. She shivered, pulling herself tighter against the colonel in a pointless attempt to pool their nonexistent body heat.

Sam woke up some time later. It was hard to tell in the dark, windowless hold. Outside the wind howled against the hull, the ship rocking lightly. She shivered, pulling herself tighter against the colonel in a pointless attempt to pool their nonexistent body heat.

"Deja vu," he mumbled, still half asleep. Sam raised her head up to look at him. He cracked open one eye, a slight smirk on his face. "I have a feeling we've done this before."

Sam screwed up her face in confusion. "Spending the night together?"

He chuckled. "Freezing to death. It's not as bad this time around. Not half as painful."

"A broken hand instead of a broken leg."

"No broken ribs."

Sam couldn't help but smile, tears of exhaustion pressing out of the corners of her eyes. She lowered her head back to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his steady breathing, his heart beating softly in the background. His broken hand twitched on her shoulder, the other fiddled with the edge of the blanket wrapped tightly around them.

After a moment he groaned softly. "This is nice and all... but I gotta pee."

Unable to contain the slew of giggles she buried her face into his shirt. She could feel him laughing under her. Slowly she moved over so he could extract his arm from under her. He rolled the shoulder wincing from the stiffness then gently shook out his hand. Sam looked away feeling suddenly guilty for his pain but the colonel said nothing. Not that he ever would.

"We should get up and start moving anyway, before hypothermia sets in."

"How about we fire the heat up in here a little," he called from the bathroom. Almost nothing else worked on the ship but the plumbing kept pumping water. Sam wondered how the systems interacted that they had no heat but the hot water had yet to run out. She frowned at the thought as she dug through her pack looking for her toiletries.

The colonel returned a few minutes later, his hair tussled, shirt untucked and a sleepy grin on his face. Sam shook her head at him. He could be such a kid sometimes. But that was part of his charm. She jumped up at that thought, excusing herself to the bathroom. Now was not the time to be thinking of her commanding officer as charming or adorable in the morning. Adorable? Where the hell did that come from? She mentally slapped herself and when that didn't do the trick she connected her actual hand with her chilled cheek.

"Get a grip, Carter," she mumbled to herself as she cleaned up. When she was done she took a few minutes to steady herself. Sleeping next to the colonel wasn't a new thing. They often shared a tent on overnight missions, although Daniel and Teal'c were usually near-by if not in the tent with them. But sleeping that close... that didn't happen often. And it was always as a last resort to save their lives. Like in Antarctica. She tried not to think of that. It was one adventure she'd rather forget. They had come so close to dying. Literally moments away. She didn't want to link that event with their current predicament no matter how bad things were looking at the moment.

"You fall in there?" the colonel yelled from the other room when she didn't return in what she assumed he thought was a reasonable amount of time. She rolled her eyes at her reflection in the huge mirror that covered an entire wall of the room. Damn Goa'uld and their egos.

Back in the cargo hold the colonel had picked up the contents of the first aid kit and set out an MRE for her. She picked it up and followed the sound of him mumbling and cursing under his breath. He was in the back of the hold, his hands inside a control panel.

"Sir? I wouldn't-" she started to say as she saw what he was about to do.

A flash and the colonel fell back, his finger going in his mouth again. "Owe," he muttered around it.

Sam just shook her head. She couldn't believe a man nearing the fifty year mark could look so much like an overgrown ten year old. He looked up at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. She sighed and squatted down next to him.

"You have to change the green and yellow crystals first before trying to divert the heat from the engines," she told him and she manipulated the innards of the panel. "I don't think there's much power getting to this console, though. There seems to be a leak or divergence somewhere." She sat back on her heals as the crystals lit up, if only slightly. They both stared and waited but they didn't grow any brighter. They didn't go out either so that was something. Sam shrugged at the expectant look on his face. "I was thinking we might be able to pull power from whatever is keeping the water in the bathroom hot. It has to be coming from somewhere."

"Or if push comes to shove we could take a nice hot bath."

Her eyes rolled involuntarily, something that was becoming a habit when she was around him. He didn't seem to notice. Sam tore open her MRE and activated the heating element. Her hands instantly warmed, sending a pleasing shiver up and down her spine. Under normal circumstance she would never hold on to the MRE while it heated but she was so cold that all it did was give her a tingle when normally her hands would be burning. The colonel was staring longingly at her hands... or the MRE. She couldn't tell but she noticed he didn't have one of his own.

"You should eat something, sir. It will keep your metabolism up and keep you warm."

He suddenly jumped to his feet, his knee popping in protest of the quick movement. He tried not to grimace but Sam saw it anyway. "Yeah, I'm not that hungry. I think I'll go check on the cockpit."

Sam followed him across the room. "Sir, really, you should eat."

"Carter, drop it." His voice was back in command mode, his earlier levity gone. Sam froze. Something wasn't right.

"Sir?"

The colonel sighed, rubbing at his forehead with his left hand. After a moment of eerie silence he seemed to come to a decision. "There isn't any more food," he told her quietly.

"What?"

"That's it. What you have in your hand is all we have left."

Sam looked down at the uneaten MRE of what was supposed to be a meatloaf meal. She frowned. "That's not right. I packed the food myself. We had enough for two meals a day for four days for both of us. A full day to P3X-212 then two days to the Tok'ra plus an extra day just in case. That's sixteen meals."

The colonel looked at her with a sad expression she didn't like. She felt every hair on her neck stand up but her mind wouldn't stop processing the numbers. She continued to rattle them off trying to keep up with her thoughts.

"We each ate three on the way to P3X-212. Then we started rationing. We shared those two the first day, then we each had one the next day. Then we shared the two yesterday. That's twelve plus this one. There should be three left."

He looked away, staring into the dark corner of the cargo hold. "I'm not hungry, Carter," he said plainly.

"But..." Sam couldn't let it go. It was as if there was something there, something important on the edge of her perception that she couldn't quite see. She grabbed her bag and started to rummage through it. She dumped the contents onto the pallet but there wasn't much there. Just her change of pants, some socks and underwear, her brush, a physics magazine and three energy bars. She pulled the colonel's bag into her lap but it was just as empty. "I don't understand. Where-"

She was so intent on the puzzle that she hadn't noticed the colonel approach. He squatted down in front of her, his hands sliding onto hers.

"Carter, there's no more food."

"But how? There should be more." She felt a tinge of panic that she couldn't explain. What difference did it make if they had three MREs or none. They would just starve to death a couple days earlier. If they didn't freeze to death first.

He took a deep breath and Sam realized he was hiding something. She studied his face, the youthful grin from earlier replaced by a haggard, worn look. His eyes were still blood shot and he had an awful amount of stubble on his face. He licked his lips and took another deep breath. "How long have we been here?" he asked, softly.

Carter frowned. What kind of question was that? "Three days."

The colonel shook his head. He got up and paced in front of her, his unwrapped hand alternating between pressing the bridge of his nose and rubbing the back of his neck. He suddenly stopped, facing away from her. "We've been here over five days. Almost six, I think. It's hard to tell."

Sam shook her head. "No," Sam said stubbornly, "it's been three. Today is the fourth." Right? She glanced down at her watch, it hadn't worked since she woke up making the days even harder to keep track of. "Three days," she mumbled, her head starting to hurt and her stomach rumbling in displeasure at the disruption in eating.

They were both quiet for a long time, Sam sitting on the pallet, her uneaten MRE next to her; the colonel standing a few feet away looking off into the distance, keeping his face from her. Finally Sam had all she could take. She got up and faced him, needing to understand what he was hiding and why. "Sir?" she simply asked.

He ran his hands through his hair. "You hit your head pretty hard in the crash."

Her hand flew up to the huge bump on the back of her head. "I remember."

"Yeah, only you didn't wake up right away. You..." He paused, taking a few steps away and then back. A nervous habit Sam recognized all too well. "You were pretty banged up. The bulkhead collapsed on you and it took me a couple hours to pry you out. You were unconscious for two days. Two and a half if you include the day we crashed."

Sam felt her head shaking in abject disbelief. There was no way it had been that long. She clearly remembered the attack and trying to land the crippled ship. Then she got tossed around and woke up a little later to a relieved looking colonel. She spent that day just sitting on the floor, the colonel never far away. Hovering, one might say. When her head stopped throbbing she had gone to work on the main console. She had spent two full days trying to get it to work, ending with the colonel throwing his little tantrum the night before. She looked up at him. He just stared at her, waiting for her to... what? Understand, come to terms, remember?

She pressed her fingers to her temples. Parts of her body she didn't even know were injured started to hurt. "Five days?" Her voice was weak and cracked. The colonel just nodded. "And there's no food left." It wasn't a question.

Neither said anything else for a long time. They didn't have to. The unspoken culmination of their predicament hung in the air: no one was coming for them. Sam sucked in a slow, shuttering breath at the realization.

"Yeah," the colonel said softly before pushing past her; the blast of frigid air as the door opened hitting her like a thousand little knives.


	6. Last Chance Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cockpit was dark. Almost as dark as the cargo hold with it's one dim emergency light. It was obviously still night on this planet, the viewscreen mostly blacked out. No, not by nightfall... snow. Jack took a few steps towards the control area. The wind rushed past the hole above sucking precious air from inside. A pile of snow covered the overturned pilot's chair and most of the middle control panel Jack had been messing with the night before. Outside the snow was blowing so hard it created a wall of white. He shivered violently. This was bad. When they crashed five days ago it had been cold, like late fall in Colorado but nothing more. He had looked around but found nothing of interest. Just trees and a grassy plain. It actually didn't look much different than, say, Kansas or Nebraska. Tall wheat like fields, stands of evergreen trees dotted with some kind of deciduous tree in between.

The cockpit was dark. Almost as dark as the cargo hold with it's one dim emergency light. It was obviously still night on this planet, the viewscreen mostly blacked out. No, not by nightfall... snow. Jack took a few steps towards the control area. The wind rushed past the hole above sucking precious air from inside. A pile of snow covered the overturned pilot's chair and most of the middle control panel Jack had been messing with the night before. Outside the snow was blowing so hard it created a wall of white. He shivered violently. This was bad. When they crashed five days ago it had been cold, like late fall in Colorado but nothing more. He had looked around but found nothing of interest. Just trees and a grassy plain. It actually didn't look much different than, say, Kansas or Nebraska. Tall wheat like fields, stands of evergreen trees dotted with some kind of deciduous tree in between.

But as he waited for Carter to wake up the temperature had continued to drop, the wind howling like a banshee every few moments. And now snow. And it looked like a lot. If Carter couldn't work her magic and get some more power and heat to the back their food problem wouldn't make much of a difference. Part of him hated that he expected so much of her. On one hand it had proved to be a sound course of action in the past but the constant pressure must be maddening for her. They both knew there was little they could do and yet he still expected a miracle from her. And, she most likely, did, too. Why else would she apologize for failing when she hadn't done anything wrong.

A gust of wind pushed a new layer of snow into the cockpit. It fell with a thump on top of the rest. Small, lighter flakes fluttered in the draft before finally settling on top. Jack hugged his arms around him, his fingers, nose and ears already going numb, his cheeks tingling from the frigid air. This was so bad. Antarctica bad except without so many broken bones. He flexed the fingers of his busted hand where they were tucked under his other arm. They hurt but not as bad as the night before. None of it would matter though without heat and food.

Another blast rocked the ship slightly sending more snow wafting down. He couldn't remember a time he felt so screwed. Even in Antarctica there had been the hope that Carter would get the DHD working and they would be just moments away from safety and then, later, he hoped Carter would follow his order to find help for himself. Not that she had, not that he really had expected her to. She was too loyal.

"Something that's gonna get her killed," he muttered to himself as he kicked at the snow pile. So very screwed, he though. There had been no time to put out a distress call, the attack happening so fast. After the crash Jack couldn't get the communications working and by the time Carter had come to there had been little power left and heat had been more important. He had no idea what he was doing. And he was scared. He could admit that to himself. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door. This was so not how he thought it would end and there were so many things left unsaid. Well, he could do something about that, couldn't he?

He shook his head. Things like that only happened, only worked, in the movies. Or silly romance novels, he thought, spying Carter's forgotten book half buried in the snow. He knocked it loose with the toe of his boot and picked it up, flicking snow from the cover. It was damp, a little torn but, otherwise, in good condition. He stared at the cover for a moment still wondering what Carter could see in reading crap like this. The stories were always so... unrealistic. Sara had read them and Jack had always felt horribly inadequate when compared to the heroes of the novels. He wasn't the kind of guy to get gushy romantic on a woman. Bring her flowers after he screwed up? He could do that. But plan a whole day around a romantic moment like making love in a candlelit room with rose petals all over the bed... so not his thing.

Jack flipped through the pages finding the spot Carter had dog-eared the last time she stopped, before the attack. He read the first paragraph:

 _Liam wrapped his strong arms around Morgan, pulling her tight to his heaving chest. She shuddered in his grasp, her breath catching in her throat. She was still crying but Liam knew how to end that. He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. She blinked at him with teary eyes. He kissed her softly on each eyelid, the tip of her nose, down the side of her face to nibble on her ear. Morgan's legs felt weak, her body melted into Liam's touch. A gasp escaped her lips when his mouth pressed against the tender underside of her ear, the kisses trailing down her neck. "I love you," he murmured into her skin, "more than life-_

Jack slapped the book closed. His stomach couldn't take reading any more of it. How in the world could Carter stand it? He frowned staring down at the book in his freezing fingers. Maybe that's what she wanted. He really couldn't picture Carter wanting to be swept off her feet. She was way too strong and independent for that. But, then again...

He shook his head. He could never be that sappy and Carter would think he lost his mind if he even tried. There was no point staying in the cockpit. It was dark and cold and there was nothing left for Jack to do. He glanced around one last time before opening the cargo door.


	7. Last Chance Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam had just slipped the last crystal back into place when she heard the hiss of the door again. The panel in front of her hummed softly, not as strong as it should, but it was something. She still had no idea how the plumbing or heating worked in Goa'uld ships but she felt a little less cold already. There were no vents blowing warm air, it just felt warmer. She couldn't explain it and, at the moment, didn't really care as long as she could feel her fingers again.

Sam had just slipped the last crystal back into place when she heard the hiss of the door again. The panel in front of her hummed softly, not as strong as it should, but it was something. She still had no idea how the plumbing or heating worked in Goa'uld ships but she felt a little less cold already. There were no vents blowing warm air, it just felt warmer. She couldn't explain it and, at the moment, didn't really care as long as she could feel her fingers again.

Something flew past her vision, startling her out of her thoughts. She watched as the object, the book she had brought to read, dropped to the floor next to her with a wet thwump. She looked up to see the colonel standing a few feet away, his arms wrapped around himself, still shivering slightly. His cheeks and ears were tinged bright red and his lips looked a little blue.

He noticed her staring. "It's a bit nippy out there."

Sam nodded and picked up the book as she stood. "I think I got the heat going again. Not sure how long it will last or if rerouting power from the water heater was a good idea."

"How's that?" he asked, falling into step beside her as she wound her way back to their pallet. She had managed to get some power to the lights as well. She left them at 50% to save energy giving the room a dim, orangey glow as the low light bounced off the gold covered walls.

"I'm worried that we'll suck all the power from the water heater."

"So?" The colonel dropped to the pallet. She watched him glance at the blanket but refuse to admit he was cold enough to need it. She rolled her eyes and sat down next to him, pulling both blankets up over their laps.

"So... if there's no power to the water heater the pipes will freeze and we'll be out of water, cold or otherwise."

"Not a problem. There's enough snow out there to make a nice sized snowman."

"Snow?"

"Yep, and a lot of it."

"Great," she mumbled, burying her face in her hands.

The colonel didn't say anything for awhile. The room gradually grew warmer and Sam felt the incessant tremors subside. Finally the colonel began fidgeting next to her, apparently warming up, too. "Uh, Carter," he said. Sam didn't like his tone. He always used that when he lectured Daniel, it grated on her nerves. "Didn't I tell you eat earlier?"

Sam sighed, picking up the MRE he had spotted on the pallet. "I'm not eating all of this," she told him as she stared at the now cold contents.

"Carter-"

"Sir, you can't order me to eat the last of our food." She looked up into his eyes feeling just as tired as he looked. He licked his lips. She pushed the package closer to his face, nudging him with her elbow in the process. His eyes slid from the food up to her face. He opened his mouth to say something but his stomach grumbled loudly putting an end to his protest. He turned away with a snort.

"Fine, have it your way, Carter." He took the MRE and separated the different packets of food, putting the dessert which looked like an apple pie, to the side. They sat next to each other for several minutes slowly eating the last bits of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Sam couldn't remember the last time military food tasted so good. They moved on to the dessert, trading the plastic fork back and forth between them. When there was only one bite left she found the fork in her hand. She looked up at the colonel. He shrugged and started cleaning up their mess.

She considered fighting him on this but figured it would be a pointless waste of energy. The tiny piece of crumbly, dry crust with a gooey center of apple filling (although no actual apples) and a hint of cinnamon tasted like heaven she thought as she swirled it around in her mouth. She thought about how this might actually be the last bite of food she may ever have. The energy bars might sustain them for another couple days but they could hardly be considered food. More like bird seed and cardboard held together with stale peanut butter.

She realized she had her eyes closed and opened them slowly to find the colonel half off the pallet, his hand still reaching for a dropped napkin. He stared up her, his eyes wide and a little unfocused.

"Sir?" she asked, more than a little concerned. His behavior just kept getting more and more erratic.

"Uh," he mumbled, shaking his head and almost falling to the floor before catching himself and somewhat gracefully standing. "Must be some good pie."

Sam's hand flew up to her mouth. She felt her face flush, not too hard to do considering how cold she still felt.

The colonel chuckled as he wandered off to the bathroom. He came back after a few minutes to sit next to her again.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

Sam shrugged, staring at her boots as they poked out from under the blankets on her lap. "We probably shouldn't leave the lights on for too long or they'll suck what little power we have from the heaters."

He nodded in understanding. "How about some cards? I think I have a deck in my pack."


	8. Last Chance Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several hours later the cards were a little more tattered, Jack was still as bored as before and there was still just as little to do. He finished pushing the last of the cards into their little box and flipping it shut when the lights flickered and went out. He sighed and waited for Carter to find her way back. He hated this. Hated sitting around doing nothing. Hated feeling helpless. Hated waiting to die. Having Carter with him did little to alleviate his regrets. The last thing he ever wanted was to watch her die, by his side or otherwise.

Several hours later the cards were a little more tattered, Jack was still as bored as before and there was still just as little to do. He finished pushing the last of the cards into their little box and flipping it shut when the lights flickered and went out. He sighed and waited for Carter to find her way back. He hated this. Hated sitting around doing nothing. Hated feeling helpless. Hated waiting to die. Having Carter with him did little to alleviate his regrets. The last thing he ever wanted was to watch her die, by his side or otherwise.

"I turned the heat down some more to conserve energy," she said, appearing next to him in the dark. He could feel her more than see her. The pallet creaked as she sat down, her leg brushing against his. "It's going to get cold again."

Jack groaned. He hated being cold, too. The silence stretched on far too long for his liking. At least with the lights on they were able to entertain themselves with the cards. Now there was nothing to do but sit there. And talk. But talking had never been Jack's strong suit.

"I think," Carter said suddenly, her voice sounding horribly loud in the dark, "we're going to have to take our chances outside. At least then we could maybe find some food-"

Jack cut her off. "Not a chance, Carter. Trust me, there's nothing out there."

"But, sir, we can't stay in here."

"Yes we can. And we will."

"Sir-"

"Carter, I've been out there. There was nothing. And I mean nothing. No birds, no animals, a few barren trees. That's it. It's like this planet was already stripped of life. I don't know if that was natural or thanks to the Goa'uld or our friends with the blasters but it is what it is."

"But..."

"No." Jack was tired of this argument. "There is nothing out there and you'd freeze to death in minutes."

Carter sighed with what sounded like resignation. "I just can't stand sitting around here. It's driving me crazy." He felt her lie down across the pallet.

"I know what you mean." Jack flopped back, their shoulders now rubbing together sending a warm tingle up his arm. He was thankful it was dark so she couldn't see the flush he could feel spread across his face. It never ceased to amaze him how she could bring out the adolescent boy in him. He couldn't remember ever feeling this unsure of himself around a woman. At least not since he was sixteen and asking Nancy Howser to the junior prom. He had learned a valuable lesson that day: even when you think the girl is in your league it doesn't mean she thinks she is. Nancy had practically laughed in his face. She went to the prom with Louis Cowler, the lead in the school musical. Jack had sucked it up and gone stag, laughing at all the suckers being tugged around by their dates. Carter was so out of his league it wasn't even funny. He sighed, more loudly than intended.

"What?" Carter asked. He could feel she had risen onto her elbow, turning to face him. Funny how he could "see" her even when he couldn't.

Jack bit his lip for a moment. "Did you go to your junior prom?" he finally asked. He could imagine the befuddled look Carter was no doubt giving him right now. He smiled at the thought.

"Uh... what?"

Jack rolled to his right and pushed himself up on his elbow to match her position. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the emergency bulb over the door. There was enough light to make out her face just a foot away. "Junior prom... did you go?"

She stared at him with wide eyes for awhile, probably trying to decide if he was serious and actually wanted an answer or if he was losing his mind. Finally she ducked her head. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "My mom had died so I wasn't really in the prom kind of mood."

"Ah."

"Did you go to yours?"

"Only to laugh at the horrible fashion victims. Whoever thought powder blue and ruffles was fashionable..."

Carter dissolved into a fit of giggles next to him. Jack chuckled and laid back down, tucking his arm under his head for a pillow.

"And I suppose you were so much more stylish," she choked out after a moment.

Jack smiled in the dark. "I'll have you know I'm a very snappy dresser."

"Of course, sir," she said, trying to control her laughter. She rolled onto her left side and buried her face against his side.

"I think the lack of food has gotten to you, Carter."

She began choking in earnest then raised her head up, gently slapping her chest. She coughed a few times before saying, "I'm slap-happy," with a giggle and little hiccup.

"Huh?"

"Slap-happy. You know that giddy feeling you get when you haven't gotten enough sleep. When any little thing just seems extremely hilarious."

"You mean drunk," Jack said with a grin. He couldn't remember ever seeing Carter drunk, maybe a little tipsy but never impaired or giggly like this but he imagined she might have been this way when she was younger. It was a little endearing. Cute actually. He stopped his thoughts right there.

"I wouldn't know," she said and he could see even in the dim light that she was fighting to keep a straight face. Jack felt his own control slipping. The smile plastered there was beginning to hurt but he couldn't wipe it away. Even the threat of dying didn't take away from the sheer pleasure of being alone with Carter... in the dark and having her curled up next to him giggling like a school girl. At something he said. Too damn bad it had to end with them both freezing to death.

Suddenly his mind seemed to clear. All the reasons to keep from being this close, this relaxed with his 2IC just flittered away. He tried to grasp at them, to understand the rationalizations but they were gone. Replaced by a calm resolve that this was how things should be. Should have always been. Just him and Carter laughing and being happy together for no other reason than they liked each other's company. Why had things been so complicated?

He realized Carter was up on her elbow again, staring down at him as she prattled on about something she found entirely too funny in her sleep-deprived brain. The lone light bulb glowed dully behind her giving her hair an orange tint. Her face was shadowed but he could hear her smile as she talked. He was amazed at that: being able to "hear" another person's smile. She was so beautiful, he thought.

Without really thinking about it he pushed himself up, leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers. For a second she continued to talk as her mind caught up with his actions. Then she froze. He could taste the tears of laughter on her lips and feel her start to relax when he didn't back away. His free hand, the one not broken, slowly made it's way to her cheek. Her skin was soft and cold against his calloused fingers. She shivered and he felt a satisfied smugness that it probably wasn't from the cold. Finally, just when Jack thought he might have misjudged the situation, he felt her relax into his kiss, her lips parting slightly.

It only lasted a moment before she was pulling away. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it.

"Sir," she whispered, just inches from him, the palm of his hand still pressed against her face. He didn't have to open his eyes to know she was chewing on her bottom lip. He could feel the muscles working under his hand. He fought back the sigh that was determined to escape.

"Carter, we've got two days tops before this tin can goes ice age. What difference does it make any more?"

She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath before backing further away from him. Obviously the wrong thing to say. God, he felt like an ass.

"Carter-" he began again but she cut him off.

"I just..." her voice was low and full off all kinds of emotion, "I don't want this to be about regrets. If it's just a last chance scenario then..."

"Did it ever really mean anything?" he finished for her.

She looked up at him, the earlier giddiness replaced by an exhausted weariness that he felt only too keenly himself. He could see the confusion and fear and every other emotion running across her face as she tried to sort it all out. He reached his hand across the small space and slid his fingers across her cheek again.

"Do you really think that's what this is about?"

"Isn't it? If you thought for even one second there was a remote chance we would be rescued you wouldn't..." She trailed off and looked away from him, pulling her cheek from his hand.

He wanted to tell her that wasn't true but it sounded false even inside his own head. She was right but that's not entirely why he was doing it. There was just a time for everything he tried to convince himself.

Jack closed his eyes, feeling another sigh of frustration bubbling up. "Carter," he murmured.

"Can we just not do this right now? I'm really tired." With that Carter pulled the blankets up over her, turning to face away from him.


	9. Last Chance Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was several hours before the cargo hold became too cold to bear. Despite their earlier disagreement Sam felt him press his body up against hers, slipping his broken hand under her neck to wrap around her. He used the other to pull the blankets tightly around them. With his face nuzzled into the back of her neck, his breath warm against her flesh, she finally felt herself relax some. They both continued to shiver but she felt calmer... safer... more content with the colonel snoring softly behind her.

It was several hours before the cargo hold became too cold to bear. Despite their earlier disagreement Sam felt him press his body up against hers, slipping his broken hand under her neck to wrap around her. He used the other to pull the blankets tightly around them. With his face nuzzled into the back of her neck, his breath warm against her flesh, she finally felt herself relax some. They both continued to shiver but she felt calmer... safer... more content with the colonel snoring softly behind her.

She bit down on her lip, squeezing her eyes shut tight at the sudden watering. She would not cry. Not about the argument or their lost chances or their eminent death or her idiotic refusal of his attempt at opening up to her. The kiss had been an utter surprise and just as amazing as she had always imagined it would be but she couldn't get past the fact that it wouldn't be happening if he didn't think they were going to die the next night. It was a stupid technicality.

Sam swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in her throat at the thought. The colonel stirred, rearranging his body against hers before falling back in a mostly restless sleep. It was just too cold to really get comfortable. She fought to keep her teeth from chattering and focused her attention on the colonel's hand sitting on her shoulder, his fingers peeking out from under her attempt at a splint. She forced another lump down and reached a shaky, cold hand up. She hesitated just before touching him then let her fingers sweep across the bandages before threading them gingerly between his. She closed her eyes and let her body relax more, leaning into him.

She knew he was no longer asleep. Her soft touch woke him just as she knew it would. There had been only a subtle shift in the pattern of his chest pressing against her back from each inhale and his breath tickling the nape of her neck with each exhale to alert her but she knew him so well she noticed it right away. After a moment he shifted his weight slightly, his free arm pulling her closer.

"Sir," she said softly, not really sure what else she planned to say.

"Quiet, Carter, trying to sleep," he mumbled into her hair.

She half turned to look at him. "Sir?"

"We can talk about it in the morning."

Sam sighed, lowering herself back into his arms. How could she tell him she was afraid there might not be a tomorrow and she had thrown away her one chance at having this conversation? It seemed like hours later before she slowly drifted off to sleep.

She woke later, never sure exactly how much time had passed. The colonel's arm was still wrapped around her. She looked down at his left arm and the watch still sitting on his wrist. She slowly reached over and as quietly as she could pulled the cover back from the faceplate. A press of a button and it lit up rather brightly in the dark hold. Somewhere across the galaxy it was 0500 on... a Thursday. Morning. She quietly replaced the cover unlike the colonel's usual habit of letting it slap shut. She often wondered if he did it just to annoy people. Daniel especially got irritated at the noise and the more agitated he got the longer the colonel continued his little habit.

She felt herself smiling at the thought but it was almost as quickly wiped away at the thought of never seeing Daniel again. Or, more precisely, him never seeing her again. She didn't want to think of how much it would hurt him to lose his two best friends. And that did it. The dam cracked and a tear slipped down her cheek. She pressed her lips together, biting down on them with her teeth to keep the rest of the waterworks contained.

"You okay?" the colonel murmured into her shoulder.

She nodded slightly but couldn't speak. She knew he wouldn't let it go.

"Carter." His voice still sounded fuzzy with sleep.

"I was," she finally said, her voice cracking slightly. "I was just thinking of Daniel."

She felt him stiffen up. "Ouch. Didn't see that coming."

Sam craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder. His eyes were still shut but he had a sleepy grin growing across his face. She let out a sigh as she collapsed back into the warmth of his embrace. God, she loved waking up next to him. She turned over so she was staring at the exposed bit of skin just below his chin and pressed her face into his chest, curling her fingers into the stiff fabric of his jacket. He smelled so good. The colonel didn't flinch away like she would have expected just days ago. Instead he wrapped his arms protectively around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

She listened to the cadence of his slow and steady breaths for several beats. Then she heard him take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said softly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head, still buried under his chin but she didn't say anything. The press of tears was back. She silently cursed her exhaustion that was letting her emotions get the better of her. She took a moment to use her military training to reign them in. She was still schooling her features when the colonel spoke again.

"Sam?" That one word just about undid her. She was always amazed at how her name rolling off his tongue could pull every string in her, twist her stomach into a giant knot and at the same time melt her heart and turn her knees to Jello. Not that the way he said, "Carter" had any less of an effect on her. She had once spent an overwhelmingly boring briefing cataloging all the ways he could say her name, all the hidden meaning he could put into that one word. It was just about as many ways as she had for saying, "sir."

Finally she pulled herself together and looked up at him. "I'm okay," she told him, "just... it's a lot... you know."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. Never thought it would end like this," he said with a snort. She cringed at the nonchalant way he spoke about their predicament. "I always figured I'd go out in a blaze of glory. Hopefully with you safely back home." He tacked the last bit on quietly, probably hoping she wouldn't hear.

Sitting up, Sam stared down at him. "Honestly, I'd rather be at your side." That got a smile out of him. Sam felt her own face relax, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Now she was doing it, too... talking about their impending death like it was just another day at the office. Which, for their jobs, it kind of was, she thought with a snort. The colonel raised an eyebrow at her; his unvoiced question of "what?" She shook her head. "We should get up and get moving. Keep our body temperatures up."

He sighed. "But I was so comfy." They stared at each other a few moments before either moved. Sam almost didn't notice his hand twitching dangerously close to hers; reaching but not actually touching. She was surprised at how much that hurt. Not that he was afraid to touch her again but that she had caused him to doubt. She opened her mouth to say something but he groaned and stretched his arms over his head. "Fine, I'll go see about the heat. I think all my extremities are numb." He gave her a sly grin. "And that's saying a lot."

Sam rolled her eyes before moving to let him get up. She headed for the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "don't forget to-"

"I know, I know. Green and yellow crystals. I'm not as dense as I look," he mumbled as he walked away. Sam couldn't help but laugh.

As she washed up she looked into the mirror at her bruised and weary face. The water was no longer running all that hot which worried her more than she cared to think about at the moment. "I'm not going to do this," she told herself softly. "I'm not going to act like this is the last day of my life." Her reflection didn't look too convinced. There had to be something more she could do.


	10. Last Chance Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack quickly fiddled with the crystals. He decided to leave the lights down low, saving what little reserve power they had for the heat. Not that it mattered much. The food was gone and with it any hopes of surviving. Heat or not. With a sigh he maneuvered in the dark towards the bathroom. It was empty so he hurried to do his business. He was scrubbing his hand through his hair when he returned to the pallet expecting to find Carter there but it was empty, too. He scratched his head and eyed the door into the cockpit. She never quit.

Jack quickly fiddled with the crystals. He decided to leave the lights down low, saving what little reserve power they had for the heat. Not that it mattered much. The food was gone and with it any hopes of surviving. Heat or not. With a sigh he maneuvered in the dark towards the bathroom. It was empty so he hurried to do his business. He was scrubbing his hand through his hair when he returned to the pallet expecting to find Carter there but it was empty, too. He scratched his head and eyed the door into the cockpit. She never quit.

The door sliding opened startled Carter. She jumped a little but continued to work inside a panel off to the left of the co-pilot's chair.

"Carter, what are you doing?" Jack asked, coming up behind her. He hunched his shoulders and tried unsuccessfully to jam his hands into his jacket pockets. The bandages on his right made it too difficult so he slid the hand under the other arm, using his left hand to hold it in place.

"If I could just get the transmitter working..." She reached far into the compartment and pulled out some smoky looking crystals. Never a good sign. She sighed, rolling them over in her fingers.

"I told you it's pointless."

She rocked back so she was sitting on her haunches and glanced over her shoulder at him. "No offense, sir, but maybe I should be the judge of that."

"You saying you're smarter than me, Carter?" It was a lame attempt at humor and she knew it. She narrowed her eyes but didn't dignify his comment with any answer.

"I think I can find replacements for these in one of these other panels that aren't working."

"And then what? We barely have enough power to light a match."

She got up and stood in front of him all full of optimism and stubbornness that he remembered from her early days on SG-1. Back when she still felt she had something to prove to him. "I have to do this. I can't just sit around any more and wait to die. Just let me do this."

Jack studied her face: eyes sunken but determined, jaw set, a smudge of grease on her chin. Without a second thought he reached up with his good hand and wiped it away. She stared at his hand but didn't move. He opened his fingers to show her the dirt. Her eyes tracked back up to his face but she still said nothing. Her expression, though, her whole body was asking his permission... permission to be left alone to do the only thing she knew how to do: try and save his sorry ass. It was why he kept her around wasn't it? Well, that's what he told other people anyway. The reality of it was so much more, so much that he could barely even admit to himself.

He stepped out of the way to let her find her crystals. He wandered around the cockpit, kicking at snow and debris and wishing he could be more helpful. He was acutely aware that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye probably wondering why he was still there and if was going to continue to hamper her work. He sighed.

"I'm going to go take a look outside," he finally said. She stopped and stared at him a moment.

"I thought you said-"

"I know what I said. But the sun is shining, the snow on the window melted and I am feeling way too claustrophobic cooped up in here."

She snorted at that.

"If I'm not back in an hour send out the search party." He didn't wait for a reply.

Outside the sun beat down on the snow covered patch of ground surrounding the ship. Puddles of melted snow and ice had already formed in the divots left behind them as they careened into the ground. In the shady areas the ground crunched under his boots, still crisp and frosty but out in the sunlight the snow turned to a slippery, sludgy mess that he sunk into creating a slurping sound with each step. He could already feel the cold dampness working its way in through the seams of his boots. He shivered but it wasn't exactly from the cold.

In fact it felt warmer out here than it did inside the cargo hold. The sun heated his face and sent another pleasurable shiver down his spine. He considered calling Carter out to enjoy the break in the weather but figured she needed to get this transponder thing out of her system first.

Jack wandered around the ship checking out the damage again. Other than the gaping hole above the viewscreen the ship was intact. Except... he noticed something sticking out of the left side, around the corner from the front. He followed the curve of the ship, letting his hand slide across the smooth, cold surface. There, just above the snow line... wires and broken crystals. He squatted down and examined the mess with a frown. Something wasn't right. The first days after the crash were still a little fuzzy in his memory but he was sure there was no other major damage from the firefight and subsequent landing.

He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shined it into the small hole. Inside were more broken crystals and wires. He stood up and kicked at the debris. The wires sparked and sputtered. He rubbed at his chin, the week's worth of growth itching uncontrollably now. The ground around the mess was mostly a soggy mess of melted snow and saturated earth. But nothing looked too amiss. He slowly walked back around to the front of the ship, his eyes watching the surrounding area. He stood staring up at the cockpit window for a moment before reaching up and pounding on it.

"Hey, Carter," he yelled, "I don't think we're alone here." He couldn't hear anything from inside the ship but was pretty sure she had heard him. A couple minutes later that was confirmed when she emerged with their tactical vests and guns. Jack slid his on and tried his sidearm in his injured hand. There was no way for him to get a good enough grip so he transferred it to his other hand. Not as accurate with his left hand but it would have to do.

He showed Carter around to the hole he found. She examined it much the same way he did, including the kick to the exposed wires. She looked up at him, squinting into the sunshine. "I think this explains why we've been losing so much power."

"Something's been eating through the wires?" He had suspected. He kept his eyes trained on the horizon, watching for any movement. The sun glinted off the bright white snow creating a blinding glare. He patted down his pockets looking for his sunglasses. "Any idea how big this... thing is?"

"Judging from the damage it's probably small. Not much bigger than a large house cat."

"Cats can do a lot of damage. My aunt had a cat that ate her couch," Jack said as he put his shades on and made his way to the rear of the ship, still watching the distance for activity. "I mean **ate** the couch. He just tore chunks out of it until all that was left was a frame, springs and a few buttons."

Carter joined him, her hands resting deceptively relaxed on her P-90. She was scanning the surrounding area, too. "We had a cat when I was little. When we were living in South Carolina. She was the sweetest thing. Used to sleep on the foot of my bed at night."

"Yeah? What happened to her?" Jack moved as quietly as possible through the slushy snow around the ship.

"We had to leave her behind when Dad got transferred to Japan."

He glanced over his shoulder at Carter. "You lived in Japan?"

She shook her head. "Only Dad went. Me and my mom and Mark went to stay with my gramma in California. She was allergic to cats."

Jack nodded his understanding. He grew up in a military home, too. There were always things getting left behind. "I once watched my aunt's cat launch itself three feet in the air to attack my uncle Billy. He had to be rushed to the hospital."

Carter frowned at him. He wasn't even sure why he was continuing this argument other than he was on edge and bored out of his mind despite it. Besides this little excitement didn't take away from the fact that they were going to starve or freeze to death in the next couple of days.

"Whiskers used to catch the lizards and mice that invaded our house every summer."

"Whiskers? Really?"

She shrugged. Jack motioned for her to move forward towards the tree line in the distance. He followed behind, placing his feet in her footprints.

"Darby... that was my aunt's cat, was crazy. I was terrified to go over there."

"Well, all the cats I've ever known have been normal."

"Yeah, well, I was once attacked by a goose at my uncle's farm."

Carter stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He smirked at her. "Nothing, just changing the topic."

Carter rolled her eyes and continued trudging through the snow. Jack glanced over his shoulder at the ship, judging that they had walked thirty yards or so. He didn't see Carter stopped until he bumped into her. She held her fist up, not that it had mattered much. He stayed close, peering over her shoulder to see what had stopped her. She didn't have to say anything. The tracks in the shaded snow screamed "danger" enough for both of them. He swallowed hard, following the large prints into the distance. No, not just one set... several sets of varying sizes.

"We should go back," he whispered into her ear.

She nodded enthusiastically, her P-90 now held snuggly in her grasp, the safety noticeably off. Jack backed up, Carter following slowly. They had only retreated twenty feet when a low growl stopped them dead in their tracks. Jack mentally cursed himself for thinking of it that way. They turned to see a small brownish colored animal about two feet long with long fur and a short tail. Not unlike a large house cat. Not all that scary in Jack's mind. Except it wasn't the animal that had made the sound. As if appearing out of thin air a larger animal with glistening white fur and large yellow eyes stepped towards them. It was huge. A good four feet tall at the shoulders, its head was the size of a large beach ball and the teeth... could probably saw him in half.

Suddenly the larger animal lunged. Jack didn't even have time to react. Carter hip checked him into the snow, her weapon echoing across the valley. The animal made a blood-curdling screech before it dropped to the ground a few feet in front of Jack. The smaller animal began to wail and Jack realized it was a juvenile, a very young one at that, judging by size. Crap, it was going to alert any other adults. He looked up at Carter and saw the same realization on her face and the same conclusion... they couldn't shoot a baby.

"Run!" he shouted as he hopped up to his feet. Carter bolted for the ship, Jack on her heels. He chanced one glance over his shoulder but didn't like what he saw. At least five pair of bright yellow eyes stared at him from thirty feet back. Their fur blended almost perfectly in the crisp snow. He wondered how long they had been watching and listening to his and Carter's inane conversation about cats.

It seemed to take forever to get back to the ship. They were slipping and sliding around to the door when Jack heard the scratching of claws on metal. They both froze, looking up above the door.

"Crap," Carter muttered, punching at the buttons to open the door.

Jack just hoped it would take the giant cat creature longer to figure out there was a gaping hole in the roof than it took them to get safely into the cargo hold. His heart pounding he shoved past Carter, his gun at the ready.

"Get the door open," he shouted at her as he trained his weapon at the hole above the pilot's seat. Carter was already working the controls when several other animals appeared in the viewscreen. They were massive, barely having to stretch to place their paws onto the glass. A head peeked into the hole with a low growl and Jack emptied his clip in the general direction, several bullets ricocheting off the metal walls. The animals backed off momentarily and Jack heaved a soft sigh of relief when he heard the door hiss open behind him.

Carter was pulling him by the vest when the first one jumped into the cockpit and immediately launched at them. He stumbled back, tripping over Carter's feet. She slapped the control panel and the door slid crisply shut just as the large animal collided with a thud. The growls, hisses and scraping sent a crawling sensation across Jack's skin, like fingernails on a chalk board. He sat staring up at Carter, panting hard. She looked as white as the snow.


	11. Last Chance Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "As if we needed another way to possibly die," the colonel grumbled as he paced in front of the pallet. Sam pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Her nerves were still shot and she couldn't stop shaking. The colonel seemed to be using his adrenaline high to wear a hole in the floor. She watched him go back and forth for a good five minutes until his energy was spent. He finally dropped down next to her on the pallet, rubbing his hand over his face.

"As if we needed another way to possibly die," the colonel grumbled as he paced in front of the pallet. Sam pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Her nerves were still shot and she couldn't stop shaking. The colonel seemed to be using his adrenaline high to wear a hole in the floor. She watched him go back and forth for a good five minutes until his energy was spent. He finally dropped down next to her on the pallet, rubbing his hand over his face.

"What the hell were those things?"

Sam shrugged. "Some kind of cat it looked like."

"I told you they were evil."

Sam turned her head, laying it on her knee, to look at him in the dim light. "I think you implied that geese were evil."

"Them, too."

Sam couldn't help but smile. He could make light of just about any situation. She knew it was a coping mechanism, his way of dealing with all the crap going on around them.

He sighed and started pulling his vest off. "What now?"

"I really don't know, sir. There doesn't seem to be anything left to do except..."

He stopped and looked down at her. "Yeah," he said softly, suddenly averting his eyes. "I'm gonna go..." He got up and gestured into the dark hold.

Sam nodded her understanding and he left. She sat for a long time before finally moving to take off her own vest. Her feet and knees were soaked from where she had slipped and fell during their run back to the ship. Her sleeve cuffs, too. Her hands felt like ice and every muscle twitched as the adrenaline began to dissipate leaving her with a shaky, weak feeling. With no food to help build her systems back up she had no choice but to just sit there and wait for her chemical balance to regain it's equilibrium.

She tried to forget about it all as she sat there in the dark staring at the worn toes of her boots. An hour ago she had been so positive that she would not act like this was her last day but now... it seemed pointless to kid herself. There was no way out of this and she knew it. So did the colonel. Surprisingly there were no more tears. She didn't even feel like crying any more. She just felt a dull, aching regret take up residence in her chest. She wondered what her father would think. She frowned at that thought then got an idea.

She rummaged in her bag until she found a small notepad and pen contained in a Ziplock bag. She pulled them out but then paused. She looked over both shoulders searching for signs of the colonel. He's probably ream her for giving up and writing her... what? Last will? Good-bye letters? She didn't really care but preferred to do it in private.

She started with a letter to her father explaining all the things she had never been able to talk to him about growing up. Then moved to General Hammond, leaving him a detailed mission report and a short personal letter thanking him for being such a great leader and friend. The next letters were harder: Daniel, Teal'c, Janet and Cassie. Each one pushed her resolve farther and the tears finally started to press against the back of her eyes when she got to Cassie. She wiped at the growing dampness before they could fall down her face.

Several hours had passed by the time she finished. She folded each letter and labeled the outside sheet of paper with a name and placed them in her bag knowing that if anyone ever found their bodies they would find them. Just in case it wasn't anyone from the SGC she wrote another note guiding the finders to return everything to the Alpha Site.

Emotionally drained and raw she got up and stretched, realizing the colonel still hadn't returned. The hold was growing steadily colder, the light above the door dimming slightly. Sam made her way to the back and fiddled with the crystals to draw the last of the power from all the systems. She had no idea how long it would last. Probably not long. The room was too quiet, sending uneasy shivers down her spine.

She found the colonel on the other side of the hold, leaning against the angled outer wall, his arms resting lightly on his bent knees, eyes closed.

"Sir?" she said softly, afraid of disturbing him if he were sleeping.

"You once asked me if I had any regrets," he said, taking her by surprise.

Sam squatted down in front of him and nodded. He looked broken, beaten by life and it nearly broke her heart.

"I'm pretty sure I made some flippant response."

"You said you regretted dying." The moment was crisp and vivid in her memory. He was quiet for a long while. Sam moved over and sat down next to him. "And how about now?"

He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. Sam bit back the gasp that fought to escape. His eyes, usually so guarded, were open to her. She could see every emotion imaginable there screaming at her to understand without words. She swallowed hard, an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him overtaking her.

"I've tried to live my life without regrets," he told her, never taking his eyes from her face, "to do the right thing according to my own conscious so when I looked back I could honestly say I did my best." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "And I thought I had done a pretty damn good job of it."

"But?" Sam asked knowing there was more.

"But... I was wrong. I've been sitting here going through it all in my head and wondering if I could have done something different."

Sam nodded. She could see the pain and confusion in his eyes.

"Sam, I..." He finally looked away, stumbling over the words he obviously had been trying to get out for awhile.

That was all it took to break every resolve in her. She reached out and slid her hand across his cheek, turning his face back to her. She could feel his jaw working under her light touch and hear his shallow breathing as he fought to maintain control of his emotions.

"I... I..." he tried again but Sam stopped him with a soft kiss, her lips barely brushing against his. He sucked in a deep breath at the contact, his eyes shutting tight.

"It's okay," she told him, her voice so low she could barely hear it but he was shaking his head against her lips.

"I should have told you," he mumbled.

Sam brought her other hand up and cupped his face, resting her forehead against his. "You couldn't-"

"I could," he said more forcefully, "I chose not to."

"The regulations-"

He snorted. "What kind of coward hides behind rules and regulations?"

Sam sighed and pulled away from him so she could see his face again. He licked his lips slowly but didn't open his eyes. She watched him for a few moments, both of them quiet and reflective. Finally she found the nerve to speak and hoped her voice would stay steady.

"Jack," she started then took a deep breath to carry on when she was sure she had his undivided attention, "I never saw it that way. You, we... we both did what we thought was right. There shouldn't be any regret."

He looked up at her. "Doesn't seem to work that way, though."

She studied his face again then sighed. "No, I guess not." She started to pull away but his good hand caught her arm holding her in her position. He slid his hand up until he was running his fingers over the back of her hand, pushing it into his cheek. Turning his face his lips slowly brushed against her palm sending an electrical charge up her arm and right into her chest.

"I guess I never thought things would end like this. Despite everything that happens to us I figured we'd come out of it in the end and then... then there would be time for," he paused and looked her straight in the eye, "this."

Sam bit back the tears threatening to escape again. "Jack," she mumbled as she closed the distance between them, letting him wrap his arms around her slightly shivering body.

"I'm so sorry," he said into her hair.


	12. Last Chance Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually they made their way back to their pallet, wrapping themselves in half of the moving blanket and both thermal ones. The cold was painful, little knives prickling their skin. The power ran out several hours later, the emergency light flickering weakly before snapping off pitching them into total darkness. The heat quickly evaporated.

Eventually they made their way back to their pallet, wrapping themselves in half of the moving blanket and both thermal ones. The cold was painful, little knives prickling their skin. The power ran out several hours later, the emergency light flickering weakly before snapping off pitching them into total darkness. The heat quickly evaporated.

Jack pulled Carter closer to him trying to give her every last ounce of body heat he had. Her teeth chattered into his chest and neither of them could stop shaking. This was so not how he imagined the end. He wasn't sure how it was possible but he gripped her tighter, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Her breath was warm against his skin. He felt her ball her fists into his shirt and tried to ignore the slight wetness he felt that he knew were tears. She was trying to hide it but if there was ever a time to let your emotions show wasn't this one of them: cold permeating every pore of their bodies, stomaches growling loudly, giant killer cats scratching at the door... it didn't get any worse.

After awhile her breathing evened out and the chattering stopped. Which even Jack's sluggish brain knew was bad. He gripped her tighter. He felt funny, being so at ease about their deaths, relaxed even. Hell, if he had to go what better way than in the arms of the woman he... And yet he still couldn't bring himself to utter the words. That pang of regret slammed into the pit of his stomach, turning it sour. Last chances, he told himself.

Pushing down his sudden anxiety, he pulled away from Carter's nearly still body. She instantly moved with him, trying to stay with the little warmth he provided.

"Carter," he said softly. She fought to open her eyes. "Sam," he murmured into her ear. She lifted her head to look at him but she looked a little dazed and Jack realized he might have missed his chance. She was already pretty far gone. He swallowed hard and reached up with his good hand to push her hair out of her face. "I need to tell you something."

She frowned at him. "Wha, sir?" Her words were fractured and slurred and her eyes slid shut again.

Oh, god, Jack thought, this was so much harder than he imagined. He let her head fall back against his chest and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Carter."

"Me too," she mumbled.

Jack wasn't even sure she knew where she was any more. "Don't worry about it, Carter. I'll tell you in the morning." She nodded into his chest, snuggling up against him again. Jack finally felt the flush of hot tears on his face. He turned into her, letting them fall softly onto her shoulder. He guessed he'd have to live with this one regret just a little while longer. It would be his last, he thought.

He laid there for a long while, growing colder and colder, listening to Carter's raspy breaths. Terror gripped him as he considered that he might actually have to listen to her take her last one and hoped he'd finally pass out from hypothermia before that. Slowly his mind grew more foggy, sounds and feeling dulled by the cold. He tried to wet his lips but found he couldn't get his tongue to work any more and finally, mercifully, the world started to fade around him.

He wasn't sure if it was his dying brain or if he imagined it or not but he was sure the last thing he heard was, "I'm here, Jack."

**Author's Note:**

> There is a sequel planned for this story.


End file.
